


No Strings Attached

by fangirlfates, Greenninjagal, Jungle321jungle, thedragonsarecats



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Attempted Murder, Dad!Hermes, Ethan also needs a hug, Exy, F/M, Fair game play? what's that?, Luke needs a hug, M/M, Second Chances, Snakes, The foxes can be your family too, Zeus is a DICK, blatantly lazy pet naming, both?, everyone really needs a hug, or a lot of alcohol?, swords and exy sticks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13644525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlfates/pseuds/fangirlfates, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenninjagal/pseuds/Greenninjagal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jungle321jungle/pseuds/Jungle321jungle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedragonsarecats/pseuds/thedragonsarecats
Summary: Second Chances did not come easily for many people. For a long time Luke Castellan didn't think he even deserved one. But as long as he had it, it couldn't hurt to play a little Exy would it? It didn't mean he had to get close to anyone, it didn't mean anyone else was going to end up dead, it didn't mean he was going to be remembered in a few years.Things get a little more complicated when he signs on with the Palmetto State Foxes.***A crossover in which a reborn Luke gets a family he didn't know he needed, featuring: Dad!Hermes, attempted stabbings, mafias, Late night Exy obsessions, and all your favorite minor characters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedragonsarecats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedragonsarecats/gifts), [Jungle321jungle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jungle321jungle/gifts), [Greenninjagal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenninjagal/gifts).



Luke had never been the kind of person who admitted when he fucked up. Honestly, as surprising as it was, he never  _ really  _ thought he did. It wasn’t his fault his mother went crazy (wasn’t  it?), it wasn’t his fault his dad was a god too busy to pay attention (of course not!), it wasn’t Luke Castellan’s fault that the world needed to change and he was the only one willing to do a thing about it (....). But now? Luke had made such a huge mistake he had no choice but to constantly think about it.

 

Or maybe that was just a side effect of coming back to life after killing himself. 

 

Luke hit the ball back at the towering green wall. It bounced with a  _ thump  _ and ricocheted off to the side. Luke swung his racquet again.  _ Thump. _

 

He hadn’t meant to pick up the sport Exy. In fact, he hadn’t meant to get into any sport at all. Sports meant a team, and a team lead to friends, and Luke didn’t know if he could handle anyone getting closer than arms length. The last time hadn’t ended well.

 

Luke sprinted across the black asphalt, his worn sneakers scattering loose pebbles. He swung the exy racquet, imagining it like he was deflecting a Hellhound attack. The racquet was an extension of his arm, the ball was an oncoming attack, again and again, and again. 

 

_ Thump. _

 

Luke moved in a trance, not challenging himself, but not making it easy, either. He breathed in the cold chilled air of the Connecticut grounds, carrying the scents of winter. It had been a lifetime since he had been there, but the secret pocket of space hadn’t changed at all. The athletic center still left the metal gate unchained, the softball and baseball fields were covered in a light dusting of snow, and Luke was playing on his own plane of existence.

 

It didn’t feel any more like home than Camp Half Blood had, but at least here he could wear himself out without seeing the shadow of a looming pine tree in the distance.

 

_ Thump. _

 

Luke played alone, wondering what he would do now that he was alive again, and a couple months from graduation, still had no clue what to do with his new life when he had such a knowledge of the world beyond. 

 

He didn’t dare go back to the demigods. Gods forbid, someone find out he was alive. The Fates for their own creepy purposes had given him another chance to gain Elysium; Luke was not about to throw it away by getting himself murdered by several hundred demigods no matter how much he deserved it. He was selfish like that.

 

_ Thump. Thump. _

 

Luke gave a harder swing, his fingers tight around the reinforced handle. The ball rocketed into the wall again shooting off right back at his chest. Luke blocked and countered, and blocked and countered.

 

He had run off when he was a kid. He had killed and fought and died and come back and everyone was none the wiser. To them he had returned after running away. To them he was a troubled kid. Luke found it amusing that they had no clue just  _ how _ troubled. The guidance counselor had suggested he give a sport a try. 

 

“It’ll help you get use to a normal life again,” She had said, “A good outlet,”

 

She did not say that every teacher and parent was worried that he was unstable and would bring that danger to the rest of the children around, but she didn’t have to. Luke could read between the lines. Picking a sport had been a task far beyond Luke. He liked sword fighting, and he enjoyed hand-to-hand but he got the feeling if he said that the school would be all-too-happy to find a reason to get rid of him. Baseball was his next choice but his heart wasn’t in it. And honestly the baseball team was full of jackasses.

 

He had stumbled across Exy by accident, a few guys in the neighborhood had been playing and invited him to join despite him not knowing anything about it. The rules were simple: get the ball to the other goal, you could only take ten steps, and don’t kill anyone. Luke didn’t know what it was, the contact, the fierceness, the feeling of working together, but for the first time since coming back to life he had finally dragged himself up from his guilty hole.

 

When he played, Luke forgot he had ever died.

 

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

 

Luke was all at once aware that he was not alone. He caught the ball in his strikers net stopping his game with barely a pause. He spun on his foot, dispersing a clump of rocks into a pile of snow. His pacing marks had worn a rut in the snow all the way to the asphalt ground.

 

“Aren’t you cold?” A voice called to him.

 

Luke eyed the intruder, an older man with a gruff voice, bundled up in the chilly wind by an orange and white sports windbreaker and a mismatching hand-knitted purple scarf. He looked annoyed at whatever business had brought him out of his warm house today. He stood on the other side of the fence that boxed the area meant for playing Wall Ball.

 

Luke supposed it was probably cold out, but he had found that he was indifferent to the frigid wind. He was wearing sneakers, ones eerily similar to the ones his dad had given him all those years ago, silver work out shorts and a white T- shirt under a navy blue and red sweatshirt he couldn’t remember where he got. By some miracle all of his clothes fit, but Luke had chalked that up to divine interference, considering it had been a good fourteen years since he had left.

 

“Not really.” Luke said. He checked the guy over again, but the man’s posture was as casual as one could get. He was no monster, if so, he probably wouldn’t have asked how Luke was doing before he tried to kill him. And at least from Luke’s experience, gods didn’t tend to care for ex-hosts of Kronos were doing. Luke gave his ball a jump and dealt himself back into his game.

 

“You know, Exy isn’t suppose to be played in the snow.” The man said after a moment of watching Luke play himself.

 

“You know, I was quite content playing right here by myself before you came along,” Luke replied in the same tone of voice.

 

The man grumbled something about obnoxious upstarts, and Luke purposely missed the ball. The man cursed, flinching at the sudden ring of contact with the chain linked fence right at face level. 

 

“Whoops.” Luke said flippantly. He picked up the ball in his net, and bounced it on the asphalt tracks he had left. 

 

“Are you Luke Castellan?” The man asked. 

 

“Depends on who’s asking,” Luke shrugged, “if you’re the police, Luke’s at a friend’s house a couple blocks away. If you’re the lottery notifier,  _ hell yes _ , my name is Luke.”

 

“What if I said I was an Exy recruiter?”

 

“I’d say lying to a liar is a stupid game to play.” Luke snorted. He hit the ball against the wall.  _ Thump.  _ “And a waste of my time.”  _ Thump. _

 

“What makes you so sure I’m not?”

 

“No reason for you to be out here. Especially in the middle of winter.” Luke rounded the ball, his foot sliding in an untouched patch of snow. He blinked hard against the cool cut of wind that dried out his eyes. Still he managed to block the ball from escaping his control again. 

 

“The hell I don’t,” the older man agreed. “I want you on my team, Luke Castellan.”

 

Luke let out a breathy laugh, but it was humorless. His fingers danced along the grip of his Exy stick, and a bitter smile turn on his face. Of course the man couldn’t see it, but it didn’t matter to Luke. A swell of pain grew in his stomach, a dagger in his body that jerked his movements. 

 

So this was what the Fates were playing at. It wasn’t a second chance at all, was it? It was a different form of torture. It was dangling an addictive drug in front of his face and watching him reach for it right before pulling it out of his reach. Luke had studied the old legends of Tantalus, but he had never once thought the gods would be that cruel. 

 

There was a whisper of winds around them that almost sounded like words in his ear. For the first time that day Luke shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold. 

 

Luke swung hard at the incoming ball, a fast and furious movement that threw off his balance. The ball hit higher on the stone wall and exploded back towards him. Luke let it whistle by his ear and rattle the fence violently. 

 

“Go.” He told the man, without turning around. “I’m not worth the time.”

 

“I’ll decide that one myself, kid. I might not have come out here for you, but I’m sure as hell not going to leave without at least one new player.”

 

“Good luck with that. I can point you to where the best motels are, if you want.”

 

“What is with you bratty kids and putting your souls into this game and then telling me no? Is it just to piss me off?” The man shifted his stance crunching a bit of snow, “If I tell you it’s working, will you sign the papers already?”

 

Luke stared at the faded green wall like it had personally offended him. He spun the racquet in his hand, changing his grip until it fit that of a swords. The metal was cool, just like the iron of Backbiter, but the weight was off. Still Luke was pretty sure he could swing it hard enough to kill the man. The urge flooded through him for a long, tense moment, draining as suddenly as it had come. Luke had killed enough people in his old life. Their screams were in his nightmares: tinted with gold light and blood that he woke up still feeling on his hands no matter how many time he  scrubbed them raw.

 

“I’m never going to play exy professionally.” Luke said, in a quiet, defeated voice that came with the realization that the world was against him because he had made it so. “I picked up the sport less than a year ago. There are dozen of kids around here that will jump at the chance to play for you.” 

 

“I’m not asking for them, kid. They don’t have the skill you do.”

 

“The answer is no.”

 

“Why?”

 

Luke could have laughed. He let the wind do it for him, the roaring breeze biting at his exposed calves and tugging his golden blonde locks. There were so many reasons why not. Luke could go on naming them until sundown. He didn’t deserve it, it was a trick of the gods, he was nowhere near professional level, he wouldn’t let himself get close to others again, this guy didn’t even know who he was--

 

“Mom would be upset I left again.” Luke settled for. 

 

The man made a grunt of recognition. “She the one that isn’t all there?”

 

Luke felt it like a blow to his chest. The air was knocked out of his lungs, spat into the air with a creative Greek curse he made up himself. The anger boiled in his stomach again, the achingly familiar feeling, except this time Luke knew how dangerous it is. 

 

He wished the Fates had dipped him in the river Lethe before they popped him back here. But that would’ve taken the fun out of tormenting him. Luke turned sharply and vaulted his stick at the fence right before the man.

 

“You don’t know a thing about me or my mom. I’m not playing exy for you, I don’t care who you are. My world is here, my place is here, and if you come back here with your stupid offer again, I’ll make sure the fence isn’t there when I throw.” Luke shoved his hands in his jacket pocket making sure the shaking of them wouldn’t discourage his bluff. 

 

The man raised an eyebrow at him then looked down at the racquet in the snow. “You always this dramatic?”

 

“Fuck. Off.”

 

“I think,” Another voice cut in softly, “what Coach means to say is that you would be a great addition to the team, Luke.” 

 

Luke wheeled to the side to find a girl standing on the opposite fence. She was pale as the snow around her, but her thick red jacket made her stand out. Her white hair was dyed pastel pink at the ends and it matched her nose. She had uncanny eyes that made Luke’s nerves tingle. He hadn’t heard her approach at all. Her scarf was a bright orange with the name  _ Palmetto Foxes  _ embroidered on the edge.

 

Luke’s heart jumped to his throat at the sight of the name. It was at that moment he knew exactly how screwed he was. 

 

“Foxes.” He repeated, “the Palmetto Foxes. The nine-man team that won the championships last year. You think I would make a great add...this has got to be some kind of joke.”

 

“No joke.” Renee Walker, goalkeeper, number nine, reassured him, in that same soft voice. That same voice was heard over bomb explosions and war zones and black friday shopping riots. 

 

Luke wished he had some comeback. He really did. But he was the son of the god of pathways and lies, not the god of sassy comebacks and nonchalance. He spluttered his way through another curse that might have made Hera hate him more than before. 

 

“So, you signing things, Castellan?” The man said. Only now Luke could put a name to the face. He was David Wymack, father of Kevin Day, coach of the Foxes, and firm believer in chances after the end of the world. 

 

The Fates had a worse sense of humor than Ethan did.

 

Luke swallowed the urge to scream bloody murder. This was fake. There was no way this could be real. Things like this could not-- did not-- happen to him. Especially after how he tried to dethrone the gods themselves. They wouldn’t reward him with a chance like this. He would probably sign the papers and then Wymack would rip them up in front of him. It was a joke. A punishment.

 

“Why me?” Luke whispered to the Fates.

 

Renee and Wymack must have thought the was talking to them because they shared a look. Renee shuffled closer to the fence, wrapping her pale bare fingers around the square links. “They said that when you ran away you were found by a gang in New York. Luke, you may not believe this, but I’ve been where you are. I was once part of a gang, too. They took me in when I was young and they turned me into something I’m not proud of. It took me a long time to realize I didn’t have to hurt people, and even longer to get the courage to leave. 

 

“Sometimes at night I wake up and forget that I’m not there anymore, sometimes wielding knives comes easier than wielding my exy stick. But I have friends that are there for me. They remind me of who I am. I might have found my way by faith--” Luke snorted, but she acted like she hadn’t heard, “--but my friends have kept me here. Let us do the same for you.”

 

Friends. How ridiculous. What made her think Luke wanted anyone closer than the arm's length he had kept even his own high school exy team at? What made her think that it was safe? He wanted to yell at her, because he was toxic, a poison that destroyed even the best things. He just wanted to play this stupid game with himself, and not have to think about swords or demigods or gods or black haired huntresses. He didn’t want to remember promises or feel the jagged edges of the broken one in his shoulder.

 

He just wanted to be alone.

 

He opened his mouth to tell her all that but what came out was simply a short, “I can’t.”

 

Wymack made another polite and not-at-all-demoralizing grunt. “Well if you change your mind, I left the papers with your mother when we stopped there earlier on our hunt to find you. You can have the school fax them over when you get back on Monday.”

 

Luke didn’t move. He felt miles away, floating uselessly like a ghost above his own body. He realized that the coach and Renee left, the latter casting him a soft “goodbye” that was lost in the wind with the other assurances that she would see him soon and whatnot. Luke kept his hands shoved in his pockets turning over the conversation in his head again and again and again.

 

When he was reasonably sure it was all just a dream, Luke swallowed hard and looked up at the grey cloudy sky, recognizing how incredibly late it had gotten. He grabbed his frozen exy racquet and his spare exy ball. A faint hum of the distant parking lot lamps filled the silent air, and for a moment, just a moment, as Luke walked under them, his blue eyes adopted a golden sheen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely little heart to heart with Hermes

Luke wandered back home in a daze.

 

He still felt numb from his encounter with Wymack and Renee. He felt sick when he remembered that the coach said he had been at his house, seen his mother, given her the papers that rattled his composure so thoroughly Luke had to concentrate not to drop his exy equipment. 

 

It was cold enough out that no one else was traversing the small paths that lead to and from his neighborhood. He made sure to step in footsteps that had already been made, and watched his white breath disperse into the air like an illusion that he was breathing. 

 

“You really should wear a thicker coat.” A voice said to his right. Luke flinched without meaning to. He glanced to his side where a man in a turquoise jogging suit had appeared. He appeared to be only a couple years older than Luke himself with a smile that looked equal parts miserable and happy. The logo on the man’s left chest was a shoes with wings. “Really, you might catch a cold, Luke.”

 

“There are worse things I could catch.” Luke said, glumly, “Hey, Dad.”

 

Hermes in his shining jogger glory, smiled back. “You look upset. Everything, okay?”

 

Luke wasn’t sure how to explain that everything was not okay to a god who ran errands and stole cows. His dad was living the life. Luke dug his fingers into his exy ball.

 

“Did you have anything to do with this afternoon?” He asked instead.

 

“Well, I was in Beijing and then Paris and then Aphrodite wanted me to take a package to her daughter at Camp Half Blood, and Ares attempted to start another war in Iraq so I guess I was doing a lot of things this afternoon, but none of them around here.” The god tapped his fingers to his chin and looked over his son. “How’s exy?”

 

Luke snorted. “You really had nothing to with Wymack showing up?”

 

“Wymack?” Hermes repeated as if he too couldn’t believe the man had showed up here in the middle of Connecticut. “Like David Wymack? Of the Palmetto Foxes?” He whistled, “What did he want?”

 

Luke looked down at the exy ball in his hand twisting it so the logo shined bright in the glare of a street lamp. A car rumbled past them before Luke found the words to reply.

 

“Me,” He said as softly as the snow, “He wanted me to play for him.”

 

Hermes grinned, “Really? I’m proud for you Luke.” He made a move to ruffle Luke’s blonde hair but at the last second pulled his hand back. A look passed over the gods face and they both seemed to realize at the same time the differences between the two of them. 

 

Luke felt like a wall had appeared in the thin space between their bodies. He twisted the Exy racquet in his hand. He took a deep breath. “Right,” he mumbled, “You’re a god first.”

 

“Luke…” Hermes said, a cloud crossing over his troubled face. He didn’t finish his sentence, and Luke wondered if it was because he had nothing left to say or because if he said anymore he might be breaking a thousand ancient laws. Luke guessed he was breaking a couple dozen just to show up and check on him.

 

“I want to play exy.” Luke said instead.

 

“What’s stopping you?” 

 

They walked a couple paces in cold silence. A street light flickered, dousing them in yellow light. The wind whistled softly bringing a fierce chill.

 

“Do you think...Dad I…” Luke swallowed hard, “Why? Why me? Why would this happen? I know I’m good at the sport, but I didn’t think I was good enough to play for college. I didn’t think about going to college! I...I...What do I do? Dad, do I deserve this?”

 

“Deserve it?” Hermes repeated, as if he couldn’t understand the words in that order. “Luke you--”

 

“--tried to overthrow the gods. I know Dad, I was there.”

 

“No you tried to save a hundred of demigods. Luke, you deserve this. If Wymack came all the way up here to showcase you, then let him. Go. You deserve to be happy, Luke.”

 

“Do I?” 

 

Hermes stopped, turning so fast that the snow sprayed into the slush filled street. He opened his mouth to say something, interrupted by only the sound of intense hissing. Hermes let out an ungodly groan of annoyance whipping out his blackberry. George and Martha came out with it hissing soft apologies. 

 

Hermes cursed, looking at the caller id and then at Luke and then at the phone again. Luke hooked his Exy stick over his shoulder glaring at a snow bank to the side. 

 

“Take it.” He said.

 

“I’m sorry.” The god said, which was probably one of the first times a god had ever apologized directly to a mortal. Luke pretended he didn’t notice and crushed a bitter swell of anger in his chest before it became anything. 

 

When Luke had come back to life there were a handful of people who knew. The fates themselves and Hermes were the first that Luke knew of. There were probably a dozen more divine entities who gossipped around about the Fates twisting their threats. Dead was dead was dead. 

 

Yet here was Luke standing outside in the chilled wind hovering patiently as his Father sped through some details over a shipment with a client. Luke could think of a dozen demigods more suited for new life and a second chance than him, but for some reason Hermes refused to explain why Luke was chosen. 

 

Their relationship was nowhere near being normal, and it had lots of rough patches still. But it was better. Better than before. Sometimes Luke could trick himself into thinking it could become a normal father-son relationship. 

 

“ _ New  _ Mexico! I said  _ New  _ Mexico! Not Mexico! Do you know how big that country is? It’s a lot bigger than the state!” Hermes bristled, “And I’m busy right now...Do I look like I care if it was express shipping? Zeus can take his box and shove it--” He let out an annoyed grunt, “Fine! I’ll be there in five.” 

 

Hermes ended the call with a violent push of the button. George and Martha looked sheepish from where they were twisting around Luke’s father’s wrist. Their green scales shined, so they must have recently shed. 

 

“Look Luke--” Hermes started, but Luke waved him off.

 

“It’s your job.” He said, “Go. I’ll be fine.” 

 

He still looked reluctant, a guilty shine to his eyes. Luke forced a smile on his face, hoping that it would reassure him. 

 

Hermes sighed, his shoes sprouted little wings of their own, dusting away snow. “I have a package for you, okay? I want to be here when you open it, but Zeus will have both our heads if I don’t have this package delivered tonight.”

 

“I’ll wait until you're done.” Luke suggested.

 

Hermes gave a sad smile, “Don’t wait. Open it when you get home, okay? And then fax those papers to Wymack. If you want to play exy, go play exy.” Hermes shot him with finger guns, “I’ll be at your games.”

 

“All of them?” Luke snorted in disbelief.

 

“All of them.” Then the god was gone, leaving only the strange taste of envelope sealant in the air. On the ground was a cardboard box big enough to be a burden to carry not that Luke minded. He was surprised his father was even giving him a gift. Considering how he used the last one….Sometimes he wondered if those shoes were still fluttering around somewhere in Tartarus.

 

Luke sighed, tossing his exy racquet on the box and hefting it up into his arms carefully. The word “Fragile” was posted on the side in red ink. He made sure to step in other footprints as he walked and toed carely off the edge of the sidewalk in order to cross the street to his house.

 

The lights of the building were on shining brightly on to the blank snow. The bean bag monsters sat in their places weighed down by snow, but unmoved as they had been when he had first left all those years ago. Luke hadn’t yet found the courage to move them. He felt that shifting their positions would somehow send his mother back into the bowels of craziness, and this time she wouldn’t come back.

 

It was long past dark, the extended shadows giving way to Luke’s slow moving form. He must have been out for hours but until he unlocked the front door and walked inside he hadn’t noticed the cold at all. Even then it felt like only a small bitter breeze and not seven hours under freezing. 

Luke placed his present on the staircase.

 

“Luke?” A voice called, “Is that you?”

 

Luke froze on the staircase, staring at nothing. He never got over hearing that voice, even after being here for months. It always made him pause, and sometimes if he wasn’t expecting it, he drifted into the past. The past-past, before Kronos, before Thalia, and before demigods. Her voice was something that Luke couldn’t forget, not when she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or when her eyes turned green and she spewed out the past like a history major in Luke’s life.

 

“Yeah,” Luke said quietly, then clearing his throat, “Yeah, It’s me, Mom.”

 

She appeared in the fourier looking more normal than she had in a couple weeks. She wore blue jeans and had actually brushed her hair. The long blond locks swept past her shoulders glowing with the light of her smile. She wore a pale purple T-Shirt under a sweatshirt and rain boots even though Luke was sure she hadn’t gone outside today. She held her arms open for a hug. 

 

“Luke!” She cried with vigour. “You’re back! I was getting worried, you were gone for so long!” 

 

Luke let her embrace him, feeling guilty, because he had been gone all day, even if he only meant to be gone a couple hours. After everything with Wymack and Renee and his dad, he was aware of the time having passed far too quickly. 

 

She had told him this morning she was going to get rid of the surplus of candles in their house. Looking around, Luke could see she didn’t get much of it done. He wondered if she had stopped make lunch for them and then had been nervously pacing while waiting for him to come home. A sick feeling bloomed in Luke’s chest as he remembered the last time it had happened like that, when he had said he’d be back and it took his death for him to knock on the hard wood door. 

 

“Sorry, I got a couple surprises.” Luke admitted to his mother, “Dad says hello.” He added, even if Hermes had not said it. White lies, who would know?

 

His mother blinked her clear blue eyes in surprise. “Hermes? Oh wow! That’s great! Come on, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

 

Luke nodded and wordlessly followed her into the kitchen. She busied herself at the stove stirring something in a pot. Luke paused and glanced around deciding what he should do himself. He attempted, at first, to help her set the table. But with a soft fierceness she shoved his shoulder downwards, and pushed him into a seat. 

 

“Did your Dad give you the box?” Luke looked back down the hall where he had left the package, flexing his stiff fingers. He wondered again what type of thing his dad would have gotten him, and how many rules the god of travelers had broken to give it in the first place.

 

“Yeah.” Luke nodded, “He wanted to watch me open it, but he had to leave. A shipping emergency.”

 

His mom paused, halfway spooning the soup into a bowl. “Open it after dinner.” She suggested, “It can be in celebration of you going to college!”

 

Something sunk in Luke’s chest, “Oh. Right. I forget that they came here first.”

 

She placed the soup before him, ruffling his hair with a soft smile. “They were nice. I think you should go.”

 

Luke looked up with her, “I don't think I deserve to.” He admitted, “And I can't leave you alone again.”

 

His mom frowned, forehead creasing. “You don't need to worry about me, Luke. I'll fine as long as you're happy.”

 

“Do I deserve it though?” He echoed, “To be happy? To go to college and play a sport… To pretend I'm normal. Mom I--” He trailed off unable to meet her eyes. He refused to blink, knowing if he did he would see the look on Ethan Nakamura’s face right before he tumbled into oblivion, Annabeth’s pleading eyes whispering “family”, Thalia’s rageful movements when she swung her leg into him fullforce... 

 

His mom reached across the table, and gripped his hand firmly in her own. She gave it a squeeze before saying, “You are my son, Luke. I have always thought you deserve happiness. And if you think you don't, remember that the Fates did not give you this second chance so you could wallow in guilt.”

 

On the contrary, Luke was still convinced this second chance was some type of trick or punishment.

 

Luke paused, and with his free hand spun his spoon in his soup. He couldn't help but think that that was the most coherent his mom had been in a while. And for what? Her useless son who couldn't help but dig himself into a deeper and deeper hole of self-pity with every passing moment of his new life. 

 

He decided, in that moment, that he would do it for his Mom. Try to be happy, if only because it made  _ her  _ happy. Happy and sane and everything Luke had ever wanted in both his lives. And yeah, maybe it was selfish, taking the offer for all the wrong reasons. But Luke didn't think he'd ever done something for the right reason before, so he didn't plan to start now. 

 

“You're right.” His smile was as much of a lie as he was, “I’ll go. But I plan on visiting you every week.”

 

His mom applauded, her grin uncomfortably large, “Go Luke!” She cheered, “I’ll watch all your games! I bet you'll beat all those nincompoops! But only as long as you eat your soup!” 

 

Luke’s smiled faded into something less genuine. She hadn't rhymed in awhile, not since he was little when raspy voices and glowing green eyes were a regular thing. Old fear pounded in tune with his heart, and Luke forced his breathing to steady as he took an exaggerated spoon of the soup. 

 

It was too salty, but Luke didn't care. His mom had made it, and his mom was all that mattered. 

 

___

 

Luke didn't remember the package until late that night. After he'd helped his mom into bed. After he’d signed his life away. A decision far too huge, but something Luke did far too easily. 

 

He was cleaning the kitchen table when he remembered it, awkwardly placed onto the staircase. He paused frowning thoughtfully before making the short trip to the stairs again and picking it up. Then he brought it into the other room and placed it carefully on the clean table. It looked out of place, too big for the table, but bathed in the kitchen’s warm light, Luke couldn’t help but feel happy to know it was from his father. 

 

He was hesitant in opening it, barely pressing the knife into the tape covered creases. He flipped the flaps open, and nearly recoiled at the sight inside. 

 

_ Two snakes _ . 

 

Bright green and tiny, curling around and into each other over and over in the confines of the package. He wasn’t sure what type of snakes, but knowing gods and their forgetfulness on the many,  _ many  _ ways mortals could die, Luke wouldn’t have put it past his father to get him something extremely venomous. Luke had  _ carried  _ those things all the way home.

 

“I just cleaned the table,” He frowned staring at the snakes which hissed excitedly and began to untangle themselves and leave the box. Luke watched them unsure what else to do. Why would his father give him snakes of all things? 

 

The snakes stopped moving and watched him as if waiting for him to make the first move. Hesitantly he reached a hand forward to touch one, but quickly stopped. The snakes seemed to take that as an invitation to slither toward him. Luke stepped back away from the table eyes wide as the snakes easily made their way onto the floor and continued so one was on either side of him, he was trapped.

 

“Uh, nice snakes. Please don’t bite me,” Luke told the snakes lifting his leg to step over one only to yelp in surprise as the other began to curl around his other leg. 

 

“DAAAAAAD!!” Luke screamed trying to shake the snake off his leg and desperately failing. In his haste he missed stepped and crashed down to the floor. He let out a groan which was followed by a scream as he noticed the beady eyes staring him in the face. “DAD!”

 

The snake oddly cocked its head to one side as if studying him. “ _ You’re strange _ ,” it seemed to say.

 

Luke slowly tried to move backward away from it but the second snake, still on his leg, began to slither up his back. Luke froze, but his eyes flickered looking for something he could hit the snake with. 

 

_ “What’ssss with him?” _

 

_ “How should I know? Maybe he doesssssn’t like ssssnakesss.” _

 

“Am I drunk?” Luke asked aloud his eyes wide as he stared at the snake in front of him. Said snake moved a bit closer to him and its tongue flickered out.

 

_ “You don’t smell like alcohol.” _

 

“You can fucking talk,” Luke whispered in disbelief. “This can’t be happening. I must’ve hit my head when I fell.”

 

_ “That wouldn’t be good,”  _ commented a second voice from above him as Luke felt a weight settle on his head.

 

“What is my life?”

 

_ “Can’t answer that,”  _ said the snake above him.  _ “But Lord Hermes left a note in our box once he figured out he couldn’t see you open us. But when you see him please tell him to put holes in the box next time.” _

 

“Uh... Yeah, I’ll do that. But can you get off me so I can get that note?”

 

_ “No. Your hair is nice,”  _ the snake said and Luke had to contain a shout as it nuzzled into his hair.  _ “Come join me!” _

 

_ “Okay,”  _ said the snake in front of him slithering up Luke’s shoulder. Luke didn’t move as he felt it move onto his head.  _ “You’re right.”  _

 

_ “Of course I am.”  _

 

Luke slowly pushed himself up to a crawling position and hesitantly moved so he could stand. The snakes on his head didn’t seem to mind as they readjusted themselves and continued to discuss the most comfortable spot of his head. He took slows steps toward the box he had opened and found a piece of paper lying in the bottom.

 

**_Hey Luke!_ **

 

**_You seemed like you could use some friends. And what’s a better friend than one snake? Two snakes! Enjoy the little guys, they are adorable, and don’t worry them won’t hurt you as long as you remember to give them plenty of rats._ **

 

**_Oh and you can name them whatever you want!_ **

 

**_Enjoy!_ **

 

**_-Hermes_ **

 

Luke read the note a few times more digesting this information. He thought he took it okay: he’d stopped screaming by the four read through, even if his heart was still pumping louding than his thoughts. He shouldn’t have been surprised that this was what his dad, a  _ god _ , got him. 

 

“So,” Luke said slowly. “You two don’t have names?”

 

_ “Not yet,”  _ said one of them.

 

“Uh, well are you girls or boys?”

 

_ “Girl.” _

 

_ “Boy.” _

 

“Okay... Um, how about... um I have no clue actually. None of this makes sense.” Deciding that nothing really made sense anymore, Luke grabbed the box and slowly made his way up to his room to sleep. Perhaps things would make sense in the morning.

 

****

 

_ “Is he awake?” _ __   
  


_ “I don't think so. But he will be if you keep talking so loudly.” _

 

Luke slowly peeled open his eyes only to scream at the sight of two snakes on his chest. He shoved them away and scrambled up from his bed grabbing his lamp as a weapon.

 

_ “I thought he got over his freakout?” _

 

_ “Humans are weird.” _

 

Luke stared at them both as memories from the night before came back. Luke calmed slightly and put the lamp down and laid back on his bed, the snakes quickly moved back onto his chest. “Don’t do that,” Luke told the snakes.

 

_ “We’re bored.” _

 

“What do you want from-” Luke was cut off suddenly by a knock at his bedroom door.

 

“Luke is everything okay? You’re screaming a bit more than usual this morning!” His mother’s voice called to him from beyond the wood. Luke was quick to sit up, forcing the snakes off his chest. 

 

“I’m--” Luke glared at the reptiles, “I’m fine! I’ll be down in a minute!”

 

His mother made a comment about going to the store today and other normal Sunday plans. Luke kept his eyes on the snakes and wondered what the hell he would tell his mother, and what she would say. He didn’t even know what he was going to do with the snakes. Could you regift animals? 

 

In the faint morning light Luke found it hard to remember which snake was which. Their green patterns were the same and the haunting yellow eyes followed him as he got up and went in search of a clean outfit for the day.

 

_ “Your room is a mess.”  _ the girl snake commented, although since either actually opened their mouth Luke was still not sure which was which.

 

“I wasn’t expecting company.” Luke growled, “You’re a snake! Stop judging me!” 

 

_ “Someone’s a bit touchy this morning.”  _ The other snake said winding itself around a bedpost and flicking it’s tongue out at him.  _ “Are you always like this? Maybe he’s not a morning person.” _

 

“I’m not--That has nothing to do with this!” Luke cried at them, he rubbed his temples and sighed, “Just...just stay here until I figure out what to tell my mom.”

 

“ _ Tell her to stock up on rats!”  _

 

Luke shook his head and slipped out of his room to the bathroom, clothes in hand. There was no way he was changing in front of the snakes. The last thing he needed was them seeing him in his flying shoes boxers.

 

“Dear gods,” Luke huffed, “I hope Palmetto doesn’t have a no animals policy.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New faces, old faces, and a bit of violence.

 

Somehow, Luke made it through the end of the school year. Wymack had gotten in contact with Luke’s mom and they had wheedled out the bugs in Luke’s contract. The day after his four hour long graduation ceremony, Luke found himself packing his car, a red jeep which was a college present from both his parents, at six in the morning. 

 

Luke had named the snakes Georgia and Martin, which the snakes had readily agreed to after hearing the names. They twisted in their terrarium glass box lid open in the passenger side seat. Luke placed the second of his two bags in the backseat of the car, pausing just long enough to pet Martin’s lengthy muscled body.

 

Luke gave a brief smile, remembering his mother’s over reaction to finding out. Sure he might have been living with them for at least a couple days, sneaking them food from the kitchen. He was going to tell her that night, but while he had been at school, his mother had the bright notion to do his laundry….

 

Turns out his mother did not speak snake.

 

It took a bit of explaining over phone for his mother to finally tell animal control it was okay. These snakes were a gift. When he had gotten home, he had been grounded for a month.

 

“If they’re going to stay, You need to take care of them! I’m not feeding them, and dears gods Luke you’re getting them a terrarium! They will not be just roaming the house! And they need names!” 

 

Luke had decided on the names about five minutes beforehand, “Georgia and Martin!” he blurted. He hoped his father was okay with the plagiarism. The snakes had no problems with that. 

 

The snakes, however, did have a problem with thirteen hour car drives. It was understandable, he had a problem with them too. But he had an even bigger problem with shady motels, so powering through a thirteen hour car ride was really his only option. 

 

His mother was tearfully packing his stuff as though they had been living together for years and Luke had never run away at all. There was dust still left on a lot of things, which he deemed would be left behind. 

 

“I’ll visit every weekend,” Luke promised her as she used one of his favorite shirts as a tissue. “I’ll barely be gone!”

 

“No you most certainly will not!” His mother sobbed angrily, “you are not driving twenty-six hours  here every weekend!” For someone who was miserable about him leaving again, she was very stubborn on that front. And unfortunately for Luke’s guilty conscious, Wymack sided with her. They had argued for hours over this, and eventually Luke had agreed to every  _ other  _ weekend. Thank the gods he had no Monday classes.

 

Luke didn’t feel like he was leaving. He leaned against his car staring at the house in front him trying to draw out some sort of vindicating emotion. His eyes landed on the small bean bag figurines all the sidewalk. He had spent so long hating this house, this place, his mother, and while it didn’t feel like a home, it was warmer than it had been when he was a kid. It was a checkpoint, a returning point, a promise. He could come back and his bed would be made, his clothes still in the closet, and the smell of almost burned cookies that he had come to relate with his mother. 

 

He leaned over and allowed his fingers to dangle over the wearied stuffed animal. Medusa was far from his favorite monster, but he prefered her to Kellie the Emposua or a Hellhound. 

 

Georgia and Martin had fallen silent watching him. Luke took one last deep breath and he picked up the animal. 

 

He wasn’t expecting a spell to break over his house, or even green mist to start pouring from his mother in the doorway. He wasn’t expecting anything. He shoved the bean bag monster into the box with his snakes. 

 

“Let’s go,” Luke said.

 

He waved to his mother one last time and refused to think about anything until he was on the highway heading straight to Palmetto.

 

The drive itself was thirteen hours of misery. Luke stopped at a dinky little town in Virginia to refuel and eat around midday. He went through five coffees in that time and it as sure luck that he made it to the school grounds before eight o’clock. He thanked his dad for google maps, as he pulled into the school parking lot. There were only a couple other cars there but Luke assumed they belonged to his new teammates. He wondered which car Kevin Day drove. Did the exystar even drive?

 

He hadn’t even realized he was shaking until Martin’s head plopped into his lap. 

 

_ “Are you okay?”  _ The snake asked.

 

_ “Of course he’s not okay!”  _ Georgia hissed,  _ “He’s about to go meet the people he’ll be rooming with for the next year! What if they don’t like him? What if they don’t like rats?” _

 

Luke huffed, “A tragedy, I’m sure.” He picked up Martin’s heavy muscled body and moved him back into the box. “I should only be a little bit, okay? I’ll go get my room keys from Wymack and then I’ll be back. Don’t do anything.” He didn’t even want to think about what type of trouble the snakes could get into here. Wymack had agreed to let him keep them in his dorm, but further than that Luke didn’t know if it was even legal to own reptiles here. 

 

_ “Have fun!” _

 

“I doubt it.” Luke mumbled and got out of the car. He didn’t lock the car behind him. Part of him hoped some lunatic would steal his car. He wanted to see how far the guy got before Georgia and Martin made their moves. 

 

The lights of the building were bright even for it being the time of night that it was. The steel doors weren’t unlocked but when Luke knocked he was met with the familiar figure of Wymack in the doorway. The gruff man looked him up and down. 

 

“Did you drive the entire way here?” He huffed.

 

Luke ran a hand through his hair, “Flying and me aren’t exactly a good combination.”

 

“Afraid of heights?” He guessed. 

 

Luke thought about the number of ways he had insulted the lord of the skies in his last life. “You could say that.”

 

Wymack grunted, seemingly understanding. Luke wondered for a moment what life would be like if he was aware of the gods and the mass of pure fucked-upness that he had agreed to take on his team. Luke rubbed his scar absentmindedly.

 

“The rest of the team is waiting in the lounge for you.” Wymack said, “They’re a bit restless. A bit sharp around the edges. I’m sure you’ll fit in. They seemed to get along with the other newbie alright.”

 

“Other newbie?” Luke said, more out of conversation than curiosity. He prayed to the gods that it wouldn’t be too long. He didn’t know what trouble his snakes could get in locked inside a car, but he wouldn’t have put it past them to do  _ something  _ illegal. Good gods, what if they found a way to start the car? Luke had a sudden amount of great regret in his bones.

 

Wymack twisted a set of keys in his hands, the jingling alerting Luke to the other sounds nearby. Laughter, the twist of conversation, a rhythmic thump, thump, thump of an exy ball hitting the ground. 

 

“Yeah, think you can share the spotlight, kid?” Wymack asked. “He’s a jack of all trades that’s for sure. Picked him up right out of New York.”

 

Luke shuddered involuntarily. “How fun.”

 

Wymack raised an eyebrow, “You two should get along great. You’ve both already got two things in common: a hatred for New York and a stupid obsession with Exy.” 

 

Wymack strutted towards the hall following the sounds. Luke followed behind him like the obedient child he was. He shook the thoughts of New York from his head, only catching Wymack looking at him briefly.

 

“What?” Luke asked.

 

“I thought…” Wymack frowned, “It’s nothing. A trick of the light.”

 

Somehow Luke doubted that. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to dwell too much on it. Wymack pushed open the orange twin steel doors and Luke came face to face with the Legendary Foxes of Palmetto.

 

As a demigod, Luke had learned at a young age to catalogue every person the second he entered a room. More than once it had saved both his and Thalia’s lives while on the run. Some monsters didn’t even take the time to lure them into safety; they paraded among humans in their beastly forms waiting to spot a demigod to munch on for lunch. 

 

Luke recognized the Foxes well from their tv interviews. Renee was the first he noticed, she looked small and frail between the huge man that was Matt and the sleek model that was Allison. Dan sat on Matt’s other side almost in his lap-- okay actually  _ in _ his lap. On the other sofa the one and only Andrew was lying with his feet up on Nathanie--Neil’s lap. Aaron was sitting on the ground next to them looking bored out of his mind, while Nicky sat by Neil’s side on his phone. Kevin Day the Exy Star seemed to have been pacing, but stopped abruptly when Wymack came in.

 

There was one other person in the room. 

 

Luke would have known him anywhere. He had been wearing the same black jacket for years, the same ratty sneakers and jeans with holes in the knees. He had a sharp smile that was faded the moment they made eye contact and black bangs that glistened under the scrutiny of the artificial light. Luke felt his shoulder burn with bad memories that only the face of Ethan Nakamura could drag back.

 

“Listen up!” Wymack growled at his players, “This is--”

 

Luke barely had time to blink before Ethan had crossed the distance between them and landed a punch. It wasn’t neat at all, but it was effective enough to send Luke to the ground cursing half a dozen Deities. Luke didn’t even remember seeing him swing; it was just pain in his face and then the contact with the ground and a whole lot of yelling.

 

“ _ What the Fuck are you doing here!”  _ Ethan hissed vehemently, but Luke never expected anything less from the son of the goddess of Revenge. “You son of a bitch!” His fist swung back again, his knuckles bruised from just that one punch. He visibly strained himself torn between enacting his revenge and going overboard with it. Luke spit blood out of his mouth, bracing for the beat down he knew he deserved.

 

Then Wymack was between them shoving Ethan away from Luke’s hunched over form. “What the Hell, Nakamura! He hasn’t even been in here for a goddamn minute!”

 

“Luke!” Renee was beside him, though Luke couldn’t remember her moving either. “Are you alright?”

 

Luke stared at the floor tile, dabbing the corner of his lip with the palm of his hand. The pain dulled to a throb in his face, something so common and everyday it was ridiculous. He had been wide open for Ethan’s attack, yet he only had a hurt jaw and a bit of blood. The whispered pleas of revenge from every demigod that had died, everyone who used their last breath to curse Luke, every splash of blood on his hands, and Ethan couldn’t do more damage than a busted lip?

 

Luke laughed hollowly, catching the attention of even Andrew who seemed to be unbothered until that point. “Was that the best you could do?” 

 

Ethan let out a string of curses and took another wild swing. Luke scrambled to the side in a successful dodge. “Don’t you dare mock me, Castellan!” His eyes were alight with rage and he easily shrugged off Wymack as he attempted to grab his shoulder. Ignoring Renee at his side and the guilt bubbling in his chest, Luke straightened.

 

_ “Countless deaths that you need to avenge.”  _ Luke slipped into ancient Greek, staring at Ethan with dull eyes as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth,  _ “And all you can manage is that? I’m barely bleeding Nakamura.”  _ Luke tilted his chin upwards,  _ “Your Mother must be so disappointed in you.”  _

 

“You…” Ethan growled, and with a sudden flick of his wrist a switchblade popped open into his hands. Luke took a step back. “Don’t you dare talk about my Mother, and don’t you  _ dare _ mock them!” Ethan lunged in Luke’s direction blade extended forward. 

 

“Ethan stop!”

 

“Woah, man, isn’t that going a bit overboard?”

 

“NAKAMURA!”

 

Luke fell into the motion of slipping to the side, the same way a dancer remembers an old song. His body reacted. His mind whirled with the shadows of ghosts and splatters of blood. Survival instincts polished to the point, still sharper than Ethan’s best blades. The black haired boy was too close, and before Luke knew what he, himself, was doing, he had jarred his elbow into Ethan’s neck and knocked the switchblade from his weak distracted grip. It skidded a few feet.

 

The room was silent. Or maybe Luke had gone deaf from the screaming in his head. For a moment he was worried, was that his own screaming? Was it his memories? Or was it something else in his brain twisting things, “fixing” things, so Luke could be another puppet? Luke picked up the knife with a smile that was not friendly.

 

Ethan stared up at him from his spot on the floor. His hair had grown out, allowing the fibers to cover the left side of his face in shadows. Still he didn’t see an eye patch, so the Fates must have given it back. Luke wished they had taken away his scar the way they had unpunished Ethan. There was a flicker of fear in the other boy’s eye, from what Luke could see. Ethan watched his every move with tense limbs, ready for fight-or-flight.

 

“And what exactly,” Luke paused, spinning the blade between his fingers. It had been years since he’d wielded a knife, it was another life. A better life, he told himself. When he had all he needed and he could protect his family with bloodless hands. “gives you the right to defend them, Nakamura? You were just as bad as me. Pot meet Kettle.” 

 

Ethan glowered, propping himself up on one arm. Luke tossed the blade at him. Ethan caught it, but his hands were shaking so bad he almost dropped it again. “If you want to kill me, try harder.”

 

The air simmered with tension so thick Luke could feel it in the air. It was a solid, invisible mass on Luke’s shoulders, heavier than the weight of the world. Renee was watching him, a calculating look that most would think was pity. No, Luke had seen pity before. This was her sizing him up. This was a mortal, thinking they knew a thing or two about him or Ethan or New York.

 

“ _ You deserve to die,”  _ Ethan said in Greek finally, his voice cold and his head turned away.

 

_ “Oh yes, because you know all about what I deserve.”  _ Luke spat back.

 

“You killed Everyone!” 

 

“I did not!”

 

“Oh right that was the voices in your head, right Luke?” Ethan flashed a wicked grin that seemed to stain the air with its dark intent. He turned to face the other foxes, to face Wymack, “Did you know he hears voices in his head? Just like his mother!” 

 

Luke had been trying to restrain himself. To pull back the cultivated feeling of malice that had tugged his gut ever since he’d come back, something he’d embraced so easily at Kronos’ overwhelming influence. He’d barely been able to cut carrots in his mom’s kitchen for the first few months without feeling guilty. He hadn’t been in a fight of any kind. He’d stuck to exy and played by the rules. The rage that had burned within him for nearly a decade had been reduced from a roaring fire to a barely flickering flame. He’d been doing well, he was getting better. He wasn’t hurting anyone. Not anymore. Never again. 

 

And then Ethan-fucking-Nakamura had to go and insult his  _ Mother _ of all people. His mother who had always done her best for him, who had always made him cookies and PB and J even after he had left her for years. His mother who had let him keep snakes in the house, and done his laundry and never gave up on him. Even through her curse, She had always tried looking out for him. She was the one who told him to come here, to follow his talent and play exy. His mother. And Ethan  _ dared _ to bring her into this.

 

His mind is hazy, he can barely tell what he’s doing, what’s going on, but— Ethan Nakamura dared to talk about his mother, dared to mock her with all the ignorance and obliviousness of a god, sharing a situation he knew nothing,  _ nothing _ , about with others in a petty attempt to get back at him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth just thinking about it, but  _ hell _ , if Luke knew anything, he knew how to be angry at a god. 

 

The anger in his chest simmered, the flickering flame roaring back into the great fire that had consumed everyone around him for years; all surrounding, all destroying, and absolutely uncontrollable. Luke slipped into a fighting stance with ease, mind clouded with the smoke of his blistering fury. 

 

(Before Luke met Thalia, before he’d stolen his bronze sword, before he had learned who he was, Luke was eight years old, had just left home, and was sitting in a library reading old books on martial arts. Luke was ten years old, fighting  _ teenagers  _ for every little scrap of food— he may have lost countless times but he  _ learned _ and he kept getting back up. Luke survived years without a sword, just him, and the fighting stance he learned from dusty library books, perfected by years of bleeding hands and bruised knuckles. Ethan had dared to think Luke couldn’t do anything to him, that he could get away with slandering his mom, but Luke’s been punching and kicking his way through the world as long as he can remember. He’s never needed a sword to fight.) 

 

He pressed his thumb tightly against the base of his curled fingers and extended the first two knuckles slightly. He brought his fist to the side of his face, twisted his back foot and hips into the motion and snapped out in quick, controlled move. His features contorted into a deadly snarl and he let out a guttural shout as he aimed for Ethan’s gut. 

 

His fist connected with flesh, his knuckles dug in, and he followed through, immediately swinging his fists back up to guard his face. He was so immersed in instinct, so deeply thrown back into violence’s addicting dance, that it took him a moment to realize he’s made a terrible mistake. 

 

“Renee!” The sound of voices comes flooding back to him, like a waterfall, a tidal wave, a tsunami of voices of rage and shock. It drags Luke under them, throwing his mind into chaos. Into fear because  _ it happened again. He did this. _

 

Renee Walker had planted herself between him and Ethan. She had taken the blow meant for that jackass son of Nemesis. She tumbled back, the force of his blow knocking her into Ethan’s surprised arms.

 

Luke couldn't breathe. His hands...he just...this was a mistake. 

 

Always a mistake.

 

Could he do anything other than make mistakes? 

 

Gods of Olympus, he shouldn’t be here. He didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t going to work out. He hadn’t even been at Palmetto for more than five minutes and already— already he’d hurt someone. 

 

Hell, Luke had been so proud that he’d been able to quell that fire. That he was able to restrain his anger. He thought he was getting better. Evidently he wasn’t. 

 

Evidently the fire he thought he’d quelled, the fire he thought he’d practically extinguished, the ever-burning-all-consuming bitterness and rage that had been festering inside him for over a decade… Luke should have known he couldn’t get rid of it so easily. 

 

Luke should have known that the flickering flame was just waiting for fuel, that no matter how hard Luke tried even the smallest stick would bring back the ever burning bonfire. And hell, if Ethan hadn’t dumped a fuckton of wood onto that flame. 

 

God, Ethan. 

 

Luke  _ killed _ him.  

 

He’d killed so many people, he’d torn apart so many families, he’d ruined so many lives. And yet, here he was, fresh out of Elysium with a second chance. And he had the gall to make it about himself when Ethan Nakamura, one of many deaths that weigh on his shoulders, was standing right in front of him trying to live a better life. It didn’t matter that he was trying to do the same, Luke was unforgivable. Unredeemable. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He had to get out, leave, go back home to his Mother and take care of her like he’d originally planned when he’d been spit back out into the world. He was going to take care of his mother, like he should have done from the very beginning, and give up on living his own live. He couldn’t, not when he’d taken the lives of so many others. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He had to apologize to Renee. Apologize to Ethan. Apologize to his Mom. Apologize to his Dad. Apologize to Wymack. 

 

He had to apologize, knowing it wouldn’t fix what he’d done, who’d hurt. He had to apologize, not for forgiveness because he couldn’t be forgiven. He had to go back to his Mom and take care of her. That was the only thing he couldn’t mess up. 

 

Fuck.

 

He had to give up on his second chance. Because he’d never deserved to get it in the first place. Did Luke want to do it? 

 

_ Fuck.  _

 

No. Luke wanted to play exy and make his Mother proud. He wanted to travel and do charity work. He wanted to build houses, work at a food bank, donate his kidney, help raise money for a cancer cure— Luke wanted to do good, to  _ be  _ good. He wanted to make the most of this second chance to lead a good life, to help others live good lives instead of tearing them down. But did he deserve to do what he wanted? _ Fuck. No.  _

 

What Luke deserved was to be banished to the pits of Tartarus for his crimes, but instead he’s standing, frozen in the middle of Palmetto State. Luke couldn’t do anything about that, but what he could do, what he would do, was apologize and get the  _ hell out.  _

 

Fuck. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Luke’s voice shook, his fists fell apart and gripped the sides of his head desperately. “Gods, I’m sorry Renee. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m so sorry.” He grabbed fist fulls of his pale hair, “Ethan, god, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Silena. I’m sorry Annabeth, sorry, sorry sorry, Thalia.” His hands shook. His face became clammy and pale. A hollowness made itself home in Luke’s blue eyes. 

 

(His mom loved his blue eyes.)(His Father’s blue eyes.)(Thalia had blue eyes. Bright and electric.)(He poisoned Thalia.)(He tried to kill Thalia.)(Hurt Annabeth.)(Executed Beckendorf.)(Corrupted Silena.)

 

(Killed Ethan.)

 

“I’m sorry, Ethan!” He blabbered, hands maddeningly tugging his hair, “I’m sorry… sorry… sorry…” 

 

Wymack was watching him with some unreadable expression. Luke didn’t wait for him to say the words, to kick him out, to realize Luke had been right all those months ago when he had said he wasn’t suppose to be here. Luke bolted out of the room.

 

No one moved to stop him. 

 

“Wow, one’s already broken and I didn’t have to do a thing!” Andrew’s voice echoes along the hallways, but Luke barely heard him. His own breath seemed to be short, so short,  _ too _ short. He slammed into the metal doors and released himself into the stuffy night air of South Carolina. Even outside in the empty parking lot, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen for him.

 

His hands were shaking violently, and he couldn’t make them stop. He could hear the voices in his head reminding him always that this was his fault-- everything was his fault, the blood, the deaths, the pain, all the broken promises. This was his punishment. He had forgotten. There was no second chance for him; he only ever hurt people. Luke was a poison. 

 

A poison that couldn’t get keys to fit in a keyhole. He let out a sob (When did he start crying?) Luke jammed his metal key against the lock, but it still wouldn’t go in. The warm copper tumbled from his finger tips hitting the ground with a near-silent  _ ting.  _

 

Luke slumped against his car door, head against the blue-grey windows. He could vaguely hear the murmurs of his snakes just beyond the thin glass. He choked on a sob, sliding down the mass until he was crouching, then finally his legs gave out and he tumbled the rest of the way to the ground. And he stayed there, just like his keys. Feeling more lost than he had when Thalia had been turned into a tree.

 

He could feel his heart in his chest, hear the pounding of it’s beat in his ears. His breathing was ragged, uneven, and he kept trying to slow it down by taking large breaths. It didn't help, because every time he thought he'd calmed down he burst into another muttered wave of apologies to random people, people’s he had hurt or killed, and his breathing rocketed back into instability. 

 

Because he had heard voices in his head. He had killed, and fought, and destroyed. He had let himself fall to the shadows. And if it happened once, what was stopping it from happening again? Fucking hell, it  _ could _ and probably  _ would  _ happen again. He needed to get away from everyone, fuck, he needed to get away. 

 

He tried to fumble with his keys again, but they slipped through his shaking fingers and back onto the pavement. Luke let out another chest wracking sob and his hands went back to his hair; pulling and tugging in a desperate attempt to ground himself as he fell into another stream of nonsensical apologies. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Renee talk and then Luke makes Ethan a deal.

It was Renee who found him. It was also Renee Walker who was the last person he wanted to see. He was lying on the ground next to his car, watching the sky shift to deep indigo against the flattering of the blazing parking lot lights. He couldn’t see the stars from here, but he figured that was for the best. (Dragon Bite was probably up there cursing his second existence with all her annoying stardust glory.)

 

Luke didn’t notice her at first. His senses were dulled by the subsiding panic attack, and it left his wide open for a monster attack or Ethan’s knife in his chest. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

He almost wished he had taken his mother's advice and gone to a therapist for this. He hated that he almost wished he had gone to a therapist. What therapist would believe him? What therapist could do something about this empty horrible feeling clawing around in his chest, the dread that squeezed his heart that something would make his mind into Playdoh, the longing for a drink from the Lethe so he could forget everything except maybe Exy and his Mom.

 

“Is this spot taken?” Her voice was just as quiet as before when she had approached him out of the snow during the winter.

 

He flinched at her tone anyway. He didn’t tell her to leave, he didn’t say he was sorry, he didn’t even ask why she stopped him from decking Ethan. He was silent, not trusting his own voice to speak without sounding like he had been chewing broken glass.

 

She wasn’t put off. Renee Walker laid down next to him, eyes flickering to the sky. She was sporting a nice bruise where his fist had made violent contact, the color red and swelling. By morning she would be regretting stepping between them as her face would match the dyes in her hair. 

 

“This isn’t the best place for stargazing, is it?” Renee mused. “Back at my home I use to stargaze a lot. My mother and I would set up lawn chairs and curl up under blankets to point out the constellations.”

 

Luke’s mouth betrayed him. “I don’t want to see the stars.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Luke hated that she was so pleasant towards him. It made him want kill himself more than before. His keys were somewhere beyond him so maybe he could just run himself over---wait that wouldn’t work. Maybe if he asked nicely Renee would run him over for him. If he got desperate, Ethan definitely would.

 

“This was a mistake.” Luke mumbled, “I should have stayed home.”

 

Renee hummed, “I don’t agree.”

 

“I punched you.”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I agree.” She shifted so she was looking at him, those curious colored eyes of her’s pinning him in place. Her silver cross necklace rattled against the asphalt. Luke wished she would go away.

 

Luke didn’t want her to leave him alone.

 

“I joined a gang when I was ten years old.” She said. It was free information, something she gave him without waiting for something back. 

 

Luke felt guilt pool in his stomach, because he had nothing to give her back anyway. He didn’t join a gang: he created an army to destroy the world. He wasn’t ten years old: he was nine running out of his house with a backpack filled with his favorite shirts, and a couple toys he really liked and a sword he would have to teach himself how to use. He wasn’t supposed to be alive: did this even count as being alive? Living with so many regrets he couldn’t breathe?

 

“I told you my family helped me survive everything that had happened, that they and my faith had saved me.” She smiled sweet like honey, comforting as the feel of a dagger in his palm. “My family is the Foxes. They could be yours too.”

 

_ “Family, Luke, you promised.”  _

 

He sat up abruptly, swallowing a scream that was threatening to tear out his lungs. He yanked his bangs, begging back the vision of Annabeth just feet away, bleeding from a wound on her head and eyes pleading with a version of him that was not real, of Thalia screaming hatred at him for proving Zoe Nightshade’s prediction from years previous when she said that Luke would betray her, of his mother’s eyes glowing green when she stopped seeing what was in front of her.

 

“I don’t want a family.” Luke said harshly, “I don’t even want friends.” His voice could have frozen the  Phlegethon.

 

Renee sat up as well, wrapping her hands around her knees, head tilted in a nonthreatening way. She looked at him like he was missing the whole big picture. If she knew half the things he did about gods and faith, maybe she wouldn’t look at him with such pity. He’d seen enough of that when he had dragged himself back to camp after his failed quest.

 

He wanted to tell her, to watch her mouth drop open a little bit as she decided he was crazy. He wanted her to tell her teammates that he really did hear voices in his head, that Ethan was right, that he didn’t belong here and he needed to get back in his car and drive off into the darkness.

 

When she opened her mouth he thought she was going to berate him on how everyone needs friends.

 

“Are those snakes?”

 

Luke blinked.

 

He followed her gaze up to his car window. In glaring white light he could clearly make out both Georgia and Martin slithering around the window frame. He could barely make out their frantic, mostly annoyed hissing through the glass.

 

_ “Lukeeee!”  _ Martin whined,  _ “I’m hungry!” _

 

_ “Shut up! He could be seriously hurt!”  _ Georgia snapped,  _ “Didn’t you see the way he came sprinting out here!” _

 

_ “Who’s the girl?”  _ Martin stuck his tongue out the window, suspiciously,  _ “Does she have rats?” _

 

Against his will, Luke let out a short laugh. It was more of a snort, but whatever. “No she doesn’t have rats.” He told them, before glancing back at the short goalkeeper. “You don’t, do you? That would be a little weird.”

 

She smiled, despite the pain that she must be feeling in her jaw. “I suppose it would be. But now that I know you have snakes, I might make an effort to keep some around.”

 

She walked over to the side of his car, until she was just a foot from him. She put a hand up to the window fearlessly, and waited for the snakes to cautiously sniff her. 

 

_ “Weird,”  _ was Georgia’s decision after a moment. She wrapped around Martin’s body to poke at Renee’s palm,  _ “She’s much more calm than you were Luke.” _

 

_ “Luke is weird.”  _ Martin suggested,  _ “He talks to snakes.” _

 

“I’m getting roasted by my own snakes.” Luke mumbled. Renee raised an eyebrow at him. Finally he just shrugged, “Do you want to hold them?”

 

He didn’t say sorry, he wasn’t very good at apologies anyway, and even if he was his panic earlier had definitely shown his desperation and regret; something he didn’t want to repeat. Renee didn’t seem to mind. He opened up his car and let her hold his snakes, who debated her calmness and ease with judgemental comments. He watched twisting his keys his in palm. The parking lot was empty except for them and the lights of the court off. He knew rationally it was late and he needed to sleep before he made a true decision on what his future held. 

 

On one hand, he had signed the contract to join the Foxes. He wanted exy so bad he do almost anything to get a hold of a racquet. He told his mom he wouldn’t come back before the end of the first week down here. He really hated sleeping in his car.

 

On the other hand, he had signed before he knew Ethan Fucking Nakamura would be here. He wasn’t sure he could play knowing that Ethan would be trying to (rightfully) tear apart his happily ever after. Surely that was a good enough excuse to drive back to the place he should have called home but hadn’t really ever. He could see the weather worn Medusa beanie baby in his cup holder, looking like a sick mush of undigested cafeteria food. Would the foxes let him back on the court after he had inadvertently attacked their beloved teammate?

 

Renee let Martin twist around her arm. He was saying something about her smelling good. Renee didn’t seem concerned with the possibly venomous snake on her person. She kept her eyes on him, thoughtful and soft.

 

“Coach let me have your keys,” She said, “I can help you move your boxes into the tower. I’m sorry that you’re sharing a room with Ethan, but I’m sure Coach Wymack is already working on the rooming arrangements.”

 

Luke frowned, “I can sleep in my car.”

 

“That’s a little overkill, Luke.” She said his name like it belonged there, like she had a right to be saying nice things to him at all.

 

“I’ll remind you of that when you find my bloodied body in my bed in the morning with Ethan’s switchblade in my back.”

 

He reached past her to pick up Georgia and place her back in the terrarium under the hot lamp. The snake wrapped herself up and waited patiently for Martin to be unwound from Renee and placed next to her. 

 

Luke hesitated next. He wasn’t sure what he needed to ask, but it didn’t seem to matter. Renee smiled and touched their hands together. He was all aware of how soft her touch was, her calluses, her palm, her skin warm against the chill of his own. He let her take the keys from his shaking hands and he didn’t say “thank you” after she drove them all the way to the tower, too afraid of how hollow his voice would sound. 

 

In the student lot she found a space near the rest of the foxes, he guessed. He saw the cars from the other lot, even though he didn’t remember who drove what or seeing them be driven at all. Luke kept an arm around his snakes feeling the butterflies in his stomach return as they parked. Renee turned off the car, and they sat in silence, until the automatic lights turned themselves off.

 

“Will you be alright?” She asked.

 

“Yes.” The son of the lying god said. He mustered up a smile, “If you hear screaming in the early mornings, I’m probably only being murdered.” 

 

Renee helped him carry up boxes, while he slung a duffle over his shoulder, and held his terrarium carefully. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator with the short girl that he realized that this might be his first and only night in a college dorm. It was absurd, yet also too accurate to a demigod life. Renee handed him his keys, but when he got to the door he kicked it twice, waited a second and then kicked twice again. 

 

The door opened a moment later, and as Luke predicted, it was Ethan at the door.

 

“What the  _ Hell  _ do you want?” he snapped after barely a breath between them. Luke might have been taller by a foot but Ethan’s attitude made them seem about the same height. 

 

“Do me a favor and hold this.” Luke shoved the terrarium  in Ethan’s arms, “I’ll be right back.” He was jogging down the hall again before Ethan could respond, a smile tugging at his lips. He was in the elevator when the first screams started.

 

***

 

“CASTELLAN!” Ethan screamed, surprisingly high pitched for such a dark and gloomy guy. “DAMNIT, GET BACK HERE!”

 

Luke grinned as he stepped out of the elevator again, this time with another box he would need for the night. He wasn’t sure if the smile on his face was his or if it was the mask of a Titan, but whatever it was, he shook it off when he saw it in the reflection of the metal doors. The Exy hallway had turned into a circus parade in the time it took him to get his car and get back up.

 

Matt and Dan were in their doorway, Allison with her phone out taking either video or a picture. Renee was still placing down her box, which contained some of Luke’s school supplies. Nicky looked to be in some type of shock, inside their dorm, and even Aaron, who was known for being the most antisocial of the foxes, besides his brother, had poked his head officially out of his bedroom, to catch sight of the the commotion.

 

Ethan was on the ground, Martin wrapped around his leg and Georgia making a second loop on his waist. He was cursing a fit in ancient Greek, with a mix of Japanese that had the famous Kevin Day gripping his chest from the room across the hall where Luke guessed the rest of the boys were staying.

 

“I said “ _ hold it”,  _ Nakamura,” Luke sighed, “I can’t trust you with anything, can I?”

 

“GET THEM OFF ME.” Ethan growled, “So Help me Gods--”

 

“They seem to like you.” Luke shrugged, “And they haven’t eaten you yet.”

 

If possible, Ethan went even more white, “ _ CASTELLAN!”  _ His free hand was clawing at the ground like his knife would magically appear in his hands. Unfortunately his knife was in his back pocket; he was sitting on it, during the one time he might actually need it. Martin flicked his tongue out sending violent shudders down Ethan’s body.

 

“Will you keep it down?” Aaron huffed unapologetically, “I'm trying to study.”

 

“Luke's snakes are about to make a meal out of Ethan!” Nicky yelped, caught somewhere between awe and sick horror.

 

“They can do that quietly, right?”

 

“Geez, It's not like they're poisonous.” Luke frowned on that, “Well, at least I don't think-”

 

_ “ _ You don't think?” Neil Josten repeated from behind Kevin's shoulder. He ran a hand through his auburn hair.

 

Luke shrugged stepping over Ethan’s wriggling body to pick up the forgotten terrarium. “Well my dad kinda dropped--”

 

_ “CASTELLAN!”  _ Ethan shrieked, “DO NOT TELL ME YOUR DAD GOT YOU THESE SNAKES.”

 

Luke glanced at him and fiddled with the broken heat lamp.

Ethan whimpered, “Fucking say something you bastard!”

 

“How about a deal?”

 

“FUCK YOU!”

 

Luke smiled. “You don't kill me while I sleep, I don't let my snakes eat you, fair?”

 

Ethan withered as Martin passed his knee without ceremony. His face was a shock pale, teeth gritted together to hard Luke thought they'd break. 

 

“I'll kill you,” He swore.

 

Luke nodded, “Georgia, Martin,” He addressed them calmly. Both the snakes immediately turned to his voice, tongues flicking with anticipation. “Go ahead--”

 

“DEAL!” Ethan yelled, “I swear on the fucking Styx and that shit! DON'T EAT ME!”

 

“--and get off this nice, young boy, now would you.” Luke snickered, satisfied when faint thunder shook the building. In the corner of his eye, Luke could see Matt look to the ceiling in slight confusion.

 

The snakes, despite being tangled around Ethan's body had unwrapped within seconds of Luke's command. They slithered so fast that Dan actually let out a curse and Nicky jumped into the sofa with a scream.

 

Ethan was shaking from head to toe, his face flushed with anger and annoyance and a smidge of embarrassment. Luke pretended not to care. He knelt to let Georgia wind up his arm, caressing her smooth scales. When he glanced back at the son of Nemesis, Ethan flipped him his middle finger with a furious expression, and stormed his way into the bedroom, knocking Aaron aside like he was made of cardboard.

 

“Drama queen,” Luke muttered. He checked Georgia's underside, just to make sure she hadn't been hurt. Then he turned to see Renee with a pleasant smile on her face.

 

“You wanna feed them?” He asked her.

 

Nicky shouted something in German and scrambled off the couch, “Hell no! That's creepy! I'd rather watch Andrew stab Kevin than something that small eat off your hand!” 

 

Kevin looked like he'd rather be stabbed too. Neil threw out an awkward smile, mumbling something to Dan and Matt and took Kevin by the shoulders to lead him back to their dorm. Kevin ran into the wall but in his daze he didn't seem to notice.

 

Luke wanted to tell everyone that only Renee had been the target of his question, but before he could Allison was storming towards him, with a vicious smile.

 

“I'll feed your snakes.” She decided in a tone that made him think she might be an empousa in disguise. She stalked towards him with determination so rarely found in a mortal, or demigod really.

 

Luke grappled for words, as she reached out for Martin, “I, uh, sure?”

 

“I think I'll pass, Luke.” Renee said quietly with her hidden smile as if the bruise on her cheek was non existent.

 

Luke frowned shifting through his boxes for the container he kept the smaller rats. He watched Allison out of the corner of his eye, as she stroked the scales of his snake.

 

(“Who's a good snake! You are! Yes, you are!”

 

_ “Of course I'm the best snake!”) _

 

“Are you sure, Renee?” Luke asked, trying his best not to sound too much like he was disappointed, “You might never get another shot to.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dan spoke up, hands on hips, “You're keeping them with you, right? I mean, I saw the permission form in your file-- I don't mean in a creepy way-- I'm sure the guys will be fine with it once they get use to them.”

 

Matt Boyd did not look like he was going to get used to the slithering reptiles anytime soon. For a big guy, he seemed very nervous to get near them. Georgia nudged his arm in a reminder of what he was doing. Right, feeding the hungry snakes. 

 

“You are staying, right?” Nicky called from the couch. He was leaning on the armrest now, watching through cracks in his fingers, “Why does he sound like he's not staying?”

 

Renee didn't say anything merely looked at Luke with her hands folded. Her friends however surprised him. Dan got a furious look in her eyes, the look of a leader who was not going to let her soldiers do any reckless, self sacrificing thing.

 

“He better not be leaving!” She turned on him hands on hips. “You signed the contract!”

 

“I punched your teammate.” Luke shot back with a roll of his eyes, “I'm surprised you're letting me stay the night.”

 

This time it was Matt who answered with a deep rumbling laugh of someone genuinely surprised. “You really think we drop you if you punched one of us?” He leaned against the door frame, “I mean yeah, it was a shock, and yeah I don't want to see it happen again but-”

 

“-We wouldn't be Foxes if we all got along all the time!” Nicky finished, “Plus it would be a crime if you took your adorable face to some other Exy team.”

 

Luke blinked, “Uh, what?”

 

Nicky made a groan sinking into the cushions, “He doesn't even know he's a literal ten out of ten. Allison help me out here!”

 

“Hush Nicky, I'm trying to learn how to feed this adorable creature!” Allison cooed at the snakes, “You are so pretty aren't you! Such a good snake!”

 

_ “I am a good snake. Luke, you need to talk notes! This is how sweet talk a snake!”  _ Martin let out a hiss that might have been his attempt to laugh.

 

“Besides,” Dan drew him in with her commanding voice, despite being a whole head shorter than him, “If we broke contracts with every player who got violent, then we wouldn't have Andrew, or subsequently, Aaron, Nicky, Kevin or even Neil.”

 

“I didn't think the great Exy star was one for violence.” Luke muttered pulling out the container he kept for his snake’s rats.

 

“Kevin? Oh no.” Matt shook his head, “Andrew's the violent one. You're gonna wanna watch out. Andrew always protects what's his. And that includes Nicky, Kevin, and Neil at this point. Maybe even Aaron, but they seem to be breaking apart or whatever. I guess you should watch out for Ethan too. I don't know what your history with him is, but he really doesn't like you.”

 

“You don't say.” Luke's voice was flat against the information flow.

 

Nicky picked it up from there, “Yeah, he totally tried to break his contract with Coach after you left. With the way he was acting you'd think you had tried to kill him.”

 

Luke nearly dropped the container.

 

Georgia hissed with worry, but Luke recovered before any of his memories could hijack his mind. Nicky didn't know anything, and Luke had been a different person then. (A  _ different _ person had let his body be controlled by a titan and kill his friend) Renee shifted as if she knew what Luke was thinking but he placated a happy face and turned towards Allison.

 

“Have you ever handled a dead rat?”

 

She broke into a grin and the conversation about Ethan and Luke was over. Nicky hollered something about it being gross, but he didn't leave the sofa to find his room. Matt took Dan’s hand and asked if she wanted to watch a movie in her room far away from the unhinging jaws of the snake. Renee elected to sit with Nicky watching with a pleasant smile as Luke taught the girl with designer nails how to attach the rats on a rod and hold it out for Georgia and Martin.

 

“Its best if you move it a little,” Luke told her, “It simulates a live mouse and keeps their hunting instincts in shape.”

 

_ “It does not!”  _ Georgia protested,  _ “You read that online didn't you? The internet lies!” _

 

“Eat the rat already.” Luke said and hopefully it didn't sound to much like he was responding to the snake. He didn't know which gods were watching, but if they influenced these mortals to give him a second chance he really didn't want to mess it up by sounding crazier than Ethan had already made him out to be.

 

Crazier than he  _ was _ .

 

He watched Allison coax Nicky into rubbing Martin's scales, Renee sitting pleasantly nearby and Aaron yelling at them to to keep it down through a closed door. Luke thought maybe, just maybe he could learn to like it here.

 

In fact, as long as Ethan kept his mouth shut and his thoughts locked away, Luke thought he'd learn to enjoy his second life entirely. If only for a millisecond.

 

Renee bumped his shoulder like she knew what he was thinking again, her smile soft and kind but her eyes lurking with a hidden depth. “That's strange.” She murmured with a curious smile.

 

“What?”

 

She gave a little shrug and smile, “It must be getting late. For a moment there I thought your eyes were gold.”


End file.
